The Rivendell Academy for Elvish Princlings
by Eyana
Summary: As is the tradition for all young princes, Legolas is sent to Rivendell for a proper upbringing. Eru save is soul. Humor. Please R


**Title**: The Rivendell Academy for Elvish Princlings

**Author**: Eyana

**Summery**: As is the tradition for all young princes, Legolas is sent to Rivendell for a proper upbringing. Eru save is soul. Humor. Please R&R

**Rating**: PG-13. Some coarse language. 

**Distribution**: Ask first, archive later. 

**Warnings**: Eh?

**Authors** **Note:  This story takes place before the War of the Ring, but beyond that there aren't very many literary consistencies. I will try to make this story enjoyable, but if I go insane please forgive me. My first Lord of the Rings fic.  If this has already been done I don't know about it, and thus I apologize for… whatever. BAH. **

**Disclaimer**: I do not own anything except too much free time and a completely random mind. 

**Feedback**: E-mail me at chrissy_butter@hotmail.com. No flames please.

PROLOGUE: 

Legolas was itchy. 

His father, King Thranduil, had insisted that he wore a brand new tunic and set of leggings for the journey in an attempt for him to look half decent. The fact that the leggings were a hideous pumpkin orange and the tunic resembled a shade of vomit never seemed to dawn of the Mirkwood ruler. In addition, not five minutes after he left his home, Legolas discovered that the leggings appeared to be made from the most scratchy material in all of Middle Earth – a fact that, when mixed with horse sweat, did not present the most favorable of situations. 

His father was sending him to Rivendell to "be molded into a proper Elvish prince," as many princes before him have done. There, Legolas would be schooled, trained, and made proper in every respect suitable for an Elvish court. In other words the next while would be more boring than watching moss copulate on rocks. Legolas guessed that his father wasn't so much sending him away to be educated rather than getting rid of him. He had become rather "wild" as Thranduil put it, and needed to learn to "calm his spirit." Legolas thought his father should just be happy he wasn't addicted to Halfling weed like his younger brothers, as all they did was lounge around the palace with a ring of smoke above their heads claiming to have the ability to "see through space and time"  in-between fits of laughter. 

Sighing, he scratched his leg furiously for what seemed like the millionth time, and motioned for his horse to go further down the path.  His convoy had been traveling for a few weeks, and was due to reach Rivendell "at any moment." However, the other Elves in the group had been telling him that for days in an effort to silence his endless questions. It didn't really work, much to their dismay. 

Kicking his horse, Legolas sped up the trail to ride beside an elder Elf named Celemar, whom always wore the same constipated expression. Legolas reasoned that the look was more likely due to a strong struggle to keep in gas rather than deep contemplation. He did, however, provide much needed entertainment. 

"Hello." Legolas said cheerfully, a mischievous smile spreading across his face. 

The elder rolled his eyes and cleared his throat. "Yes. Hello again young prince."

Legolas decided to dive right into the torture. "So, I know that I have not known you so long Celemar, but I feel that you are a trustworthy individual. Therefore, I would like to tell you a very important secret."

Celemar's interest perked up slightly, as he turned his head in the prince's direction. 

"What would that be?"

"Hmm.. Actually, now that I dwell upon it, I think I should not tell you."

The elder's brow furrowed. "Why ever not?"

"Pardon?"

"Why can you not tell me your secret?"

"What secret?"

"W,why, the secret you just spoke of!" Celemar began to stutter with annoyance. Legolas' smile broadened. 

"Oh _that _secret. Well, I should not tell you because.. the secret is about you."

"ME?"

Legolas nodded his head solemnly, a mock pain across his face. "I'm afraid so."

Celemar began to tremble with rage, indicating the Elf's apparent lack of humor. "I demand you tell me AT ONCE!" His voice startled the procession of horses behind them. 

"Oh look, we've reached Rivendell." Legolas suddenly sped his horse to the front of the convoy, leaving Celemar twitching on his steed quite noticeably. Rivendell began to appear in the distance, and many of the other Elves breathed a long sigh of relief upon its sight. 

As they made their way through the gate, Legolas was taken aback with the amazing beauty that surrounded him. If this was where he was going to spend a good portion of his youth, at least he would be enveloped in splendor. After all, beautiful elf maidens would probably be more impressed with cascading waterfalls and ornate statues rather than the darkened woods of his home realm. Besides, there still appeared to be plenty of good trees to climb, which was his utmost favorite pastime. 

Legolas dismounted his horse and scratched his legs for what he hoped would be the final occasion. The others in his convoy did the same, removing various packed parcels that were brought from Mirkwood. Further away Legolas could hear Celemar arguing with a younger Elf, saying something along the lines of "YOU started the secret, DIDN'T YOU? HEY! LOOK AT ME WHEN I'M SPEAKING TO YOU!"

However, the prince's attention was drawn to a nearby staircase where a few young Elves were currently making their way towards the company. From their dress, Legolas supposed they were Elves in service, perhaps sent to gather his things and bring them to his chambers. Legolas turned to them as one of the taller Elves walked toward him, and hoped that no one would pay much attention to his scratchy leggings. He really, _really wanted to change. And burn these clothes in some sort of ceremonial bonfire.   _

"Greetings, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood. I have been sent by Lord Elrond to take you to your room. I trust that your journey went well."

"Well enough," Legolas smiled, as Celemar screeched "IT'S NOT A SECRET, IT'S JUST AN UNUSUALLY DARK MOLE!" while waving his hands spontaneously in the air. The poor elder really needed to learn to relax. The tall Elf appeared not to notice Celemar's outburst and nodded to Legolas, turning around to signal for the prince to follow.   

As the two made there way through various buildings and courtyards, the tall Elf briefly pointed out various places in an effort to help familiarize the new surroundings. Legolas half-listened, preferring to form his own impressions of the city. He only became interested in what the Elf-guide said when he mentioned that Legolas' chambers would be beside another Academy border, who happened to be heir to the kingdom of Men. Legolas had not had much contact with humans, and the thought that he would be in such close proximity to one stirred some excitement. 

"This will be your room while you are with us," the tall Elf mentioned as he opened a set of heavy oak doors. Legolas stepped through and looked around quickly – the room was sparsely decorated but still comfortable, retaining a simple element of beauty in its décor. 

His optimism dropped suddenly however when Legolas spotted a strange outfit placed neatly over the bed. 

"What's this?" Legolas asked warily, poking the material with a stray finger. The fabric felt itchy. 

"That shall be your Academy uniform while you attend. All borders must wear them during scheduled hours." 

Legolas' eyebrows knitted together as he hesitantly picked up the bland garment. There was no possible way any Elf maidens would find this remotely attractive. "And this.. thing.. is mandatory?"

"Oh yes. If the borders do not adhere to rules and wear it, strict punishments shall follow. It is all in the rule book.." The Elf motioned towards the desk, where a small bound book lay patiently.

Legolas wrinkled his nose and unceremoniously dropped the "uniform" on the bed, walking towards the desk. He picked up the book and quickly leafed through it. A few "rules" immediately caught his eye. 

"There shall be no wondering off school premises after dark?"

"Yes that's an important one."

"No elves of the opposite sex are permitted in one's room?"

"Mmm hmm.'

"Clothing must be folded neatly and put away upon the conclusion of ever day?"

"Yes."

Legolas's eyes bulged at the rule that followed. "NO TREE-CLIMBING IS ALLOWED ON ANY OCCASION?" 

"Indeed."

"…..My father has sent me to hell."

"Excuse me?"

"Nothing."

"Ah. Well, I shall leave you now to get settled in. Your things will be brought to your room shortly. I believe your attendants will be leaving tomorrow?"

Legolas nodded dumbly, still stunned by the contents of the little bundle of paper in his hands. 

"Good. I will return in a few hours to collect you for dinner, and then it's off to bed. Your fist day at the Academy will begin very early tomorrow, and you need your rest."

"Yeah… that's what I need…" Legolas mumbled sarcastically, scratching his leggings again. 

The tall Elf bowed and closed the door quietly, leaving the prince alone in his room. At first Legolas didn't know what to do, but the annoying feel of his leggings jogged his memory and he searched the closet for more suitable clothing. To his luck, he found a rather nice grey-blue outfit made of more agreeable material and immediately changed out of the pumpkin-vomit nightmare. Slightly more relaxed, Legolas walked over to the balcony to look over what had now become some sort of prison. 

However, as he wallowed in self-pity, a soft muffled sound caught his ear. Listening more closely, Legolas discerned that the sound was of someone crying, originating in the neighboring chambers. Legolas began to wander closer to the wall, in an effort to hear the sound better. The crying was male, but beyond that Legolas could not guess. He decided to investigate, opening his door and walking to the nearby room. 

He stopped in front of the chambers' entrance, unsure if he should interfere. Slowly, he brought a hand up to knock upon the door, then stepped back a bit. The crying suddenly stopped, and a muffle of noises followed before the door was pulled open. There stood a tall individual – human – most likely 17 or 18 years old, with eyes so burned with tears he looked as if he never slept in his life. His dark hair was ruffled around his head, and he appeared to be holding a scrunched piece of fabric of some kind. The human sniffed. 

"Yes?"

Legolas was not sure how to begin. He stammered slightly trying to find the words. "H, hello. I am sorry to disturb you, it's just that I heard your crying from my room and wondered if I could be of assistance."

The young man sniffed again, and then raised his chin. "I was NOT crying!" 

Legolas raised an eyebrow, and wondered what the human was indeed doing then since his eyes were awash with tears. He decided to introduce himself. 

"My name is Legolas. I just arrived from Mirkwood and it appears my room is just beside yours." He pondered on that last piece of information, and hoped that this young human wouldn't be crying _all the time. Perhaps shedding tears was a favorite pastime of Men. _

The human wiped his nose on his sleeve. "I'm Elessar. But my friends call me Aragorn." 

"Aragorn." Legolas tried out the name, before continuing, "May I inquire as to why you are weeping?"

Aragorn paused, and looked down at the piece of fabric in his hand, before looking back up at the prince. "Alas, so many things.."

_Oh great_, Legolas thought, _Angst. This human is going to be a joy to live with._

Aragorn motioned for Legolas to enter his room, to which he hesitantly agreed.  Aragorn wondered over to his bed and collapsed upon the covers with a rattling sigh.  Legolas felt slightly awkward, but he found a nearby chair to rest on, as it appeared he was going to be here a while. The room was in near darkness; as the curtains had been drawn over every window and balcony, save for a small candle near the bed. 

For a while there was silence, and Legolas was beginning to regret investigating the sound he heard at all. Then suddenly, Aragorn spoke. 

"Love is a brutal thing.."  The words were more of a sigh than speech. 

"Um… yes." Legolas was unsure of how to answer. 

"You see, dear Elf, I am hopelessly in-love with the most beautiful maiden in all of Middle Earth. Yet, she rarely affords me a glance…"

At this, the human took the piece of fabric he was holding and brought it to his nose, inhaling the scent deeply. 

Legolas thought that was really weird and disturbing. 

"I have pined over her for all my life. She is so wondrous; my heart flutters with anticipation every time she walks by. I long to be closer to those amethyst eyes.."

Legolas was beginning to think this "Aragorn" was a little creepy. Anyone who spoke like a poetry script either did not get outdoors much, or smoked more than his fair share of Halfling weed. 

"This handkerchief of hers is all I have as a token of her presence. Yet, it is all I require for her beauteous figure to constantly grace my thoughts.."

"Yeah. Um.. Who exactly is this fair maiden you speak of?"

"Her name is so breathtaking my lips cannot spea-"

"Just… who is it."

"Arwen Undomiel."

Legolas took his turn to sigh, as indeed the human's woes were well met. Arwen was greatly known throughout the land as the most beautiful Elf maiden. And, although he heard rumors that her disposition was not wholly placid, many an Elf had perused her and failed. It looked like Aragorn had become one of those failures. 

The human began crying again, stretching the fabric over his face for some unconceivable reason, and curled into a little ball upon the bed spread. Legolas, although feeling a bit uncomfortable, felt that he should somehow make some gesture to comfort him. He cleared his throat.

"I am sorry for your situation. But all is not lost… uh… I have heard that the maiden Arwen is most disagreeable when taken to bed." 

Aragorn stopped crying, and looked up at Legolas suddenly through his blurry tear-stained vision. 

"You LIE!" he hissed. "You filth her good name!"

Legolas laughed out loud at the mention of "her good name," as it was well known that the maiden wasn't exactly the most _reserved of individuals, but quickly quieted himself. _

"I am sorry my friend. I simply wanted to make you feel better."

Aragorn sniffed loudly again and wiped his nose with the handkerchief absently. He then looked down to see that he had defiled this "token" and squealed, jumping off the bed to soak the piece of fabric in a bowl of rose water that was in the room… for… some reason Legolas could not guess.  

Deciding it best to change the subject, the prince looked around the darkened room and saw the glint of a sword leaning against a wall nearby. Weapons always managed to perk his interest. 

Legolas motioned towards the blade with his head. "Do you know how to use that?"

"Master Elrond is teaching me." Aragorn said as he turned around, cradling the now damp handkerchief like it was a new-born infant. "Alas I appear not to possess the skill necessary to wield it properly. Another reason why Arwen refuses to look at me." 

Legolas grinned suddenly. "Why, then there is some luck! I am skilled with the weapon, and would be happy to teach you. I'm sure with practice; even your beautiful maiden will notice your skill!"

At this Aragorn actually raised his head and smiled back at the prince. It was then that Legolas noticed the poor human had really crooked teeth, but he quickly looked away as to not upset Aragorn further. 

"Can you really teach me?" the human asked, the dark gloom above his head appearing to subside. 

"Sure. Perhaps after classes tomorrow we can begin."

To this Aragon nodded, and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand. "Thank you, Legolas."

The prince then stood from his chair, convinced he had done some good, and proceeded to walk towards the door. He turned halfway. 

"I hope that we shall be good friends."

"I think we shall." Aragon nodded again, "I will see you in classes tomorrow."

Legolas shivered at the mention of the Academy but agreed and closed the door behind him. He thought he heard another deep inhale from inside the room, which meant that Aragorn was sniffing his token again. 

Legolas walked briskly back to his chambers. The human was indeed a bit odd, but had a good heart and was at the very least different and entertaining. Perhaps his stay at Rivendell academy would not be as horrible as he initially assumed. 

Aragorn started to cry again in his room. 

Then again, perhaps it would. 

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Yes, I know Legolas and everyone should probably be calling him Elessar rather that Aragorn, but I like the latter name better and besides, it's HUMOR, and not supposed to make sense!

Please Review if you can, I know this chapter wasn't that funny, but I had to start up the plot. Thank you for reading!


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